I Was Going Through Our Old Room Yesterday

And underneath my bed, in the corner where we would lay for hours with your head on my chest with your breath berating my skin where we would talk about all the things to come and where we had shared our first kiss where i lay by myself, worried while your father was sick, as you were crying softly on the edge where we made fun of Jersey Shore where we perfected our fake Irish accents where my parents walked in and told us to “Play Uno with us, homie.” on a drunken New Year’s eve. Where Christmas morning I gave you your present. Where i spread out your Valentines gifts for you to walk in on Where we agreed that we were each others’ “One.” That spot on the bed where my heart was always beating 10x faster. I was cleaning, and came across your hairband. And as i held it, i remembered how you lost it, and i stole my sister’s for you. And it hit me like a truck. The hairband burned my skin like acid. You changed. You’re different. But I don’t think my feelings are, just yet. So today I cried for the first time since I left Hawaii. I cried hard, and i lost my breath. I called your name and asked for help. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s my fault anyway.